Posted: Fri, January 25, 2013 | By: Valkyrie Ice
I often have people try to call me courageous for being open about being transgendered, but the truth of the matter is, I’m really not. I just got fed up with hiding behind a mask.
You want to see true courage? http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/01/23/transgender-girl-obama-speech_n_2533298.html?utm_hp_ref=mostpopular
Sadie makes me so jealous. At her age, I was hiding who I was every second of every day, because I couldn’t deal with the hatred and prejudice I was already dealing with as a “sissy crybaby”. I was small, I was “weird”, I was a “geek”, and so many other things that already marked me as “different” that I couldn’t bring myself to admit I wanted to be a girl as well. I just endured the tormenting, and cried and cried, wishing the misery could end.
But it never did. My parents took me to see a shrink because I was having so much trouble socializing, and I learned very quickly how little tolerance I would get for being trans. I would have given anything to have had parents like Sadie’s. Parents who could accept the genetic mistake that stuck a girl’s brain in a boy’s body, but I am sad to say that as a child of Southern Baptist “Evangelical’s” acceptance and tolerance were just not going to given, and I picked that up pretty quick.
So instead, I suffered in silence. I spent my childhood pretending to be something I wasn’t, and was a failure at being. No matter how hard I tried, I never fit in. I just could not be “a boy” like the rest of my classmates, and they were merciless in making me realize it. My female classmates were little better, and just as eager to ostracize me when I made any attempt to socialize. Highschool was only marginally better solely because of the size I grew to in Texas on a steady diet of beef raised on bovine growth hormones. I know biology did not gift me with this size, because very few people who are 6’5” wear size 10 ½ shoes. But, as the “biggest guy in school” (and I was an inch taller than the QB and 3 inches broader in the shoulders) I wasn’t picked on as much, at least not after I threw a guy across 3 rows of desks one handed.
Oh, I tried a couple of times to try and come out, to throw away that mask and be myself. My constantly playing female characters in AD&D, or video games, even my entry into the Red Dragon Inn as Valkyrie Ice, but the more I tried to just be myself, the more opposition I seemed to face. My first wife “claimed” to be okay with it, but used it as a weapon against me in our divorce, which prompted me to actually make my first attempt at reassignment, during the “counseling” sessions following the divorce. The pity is that I knew far more about gender dysphoria and transexualism than my “classical Freudian” psychiatrist, and rather than listen to me, she decided that since I was attracted more to women than men for relationships, that my “transgender” behaviors was merely due to issues I had with my mother and the strains caused by my divorce.
Since then, a life of poverty has prevented me from being able to pursue reassignment again, though I believe I would probably have a far easier time of achieving it nowdays. No, to be honest, it’s not merely poverty, but the same fear I have had since childhood. I don’t merely want to be female. I want to be accepted as a female. I don’t want to be a laughingstock anymore. I don’t want people to look at me in fear and loathing and disgust, because no matter how much money I had to spend, no matter how good the surgeons I could find, that god damn triple cursed 6’5” body I am stuck with will never look as feminine as I desire.
Not yet, anyway. Not with the current medical techniques we have.
So I have to look at people like Martine Rothblatt and Jenna Talackova and of course, Sadie, with jealousy and envy, and admiration. They have already had the courage to take that step that I have not yet been able too. They have already become part of what I desire more than anything in the world, not merely female, but accepted as female, and as rolemodels of courage.
But me? I still have a long hard road ahead. All I can do is hope to one day join alongside my sisters and finally be accepted. Until then, I am merely a writer, a lonely voice in a wilderness, crying in despair and envy. No matter my desires, I can’t see myself as being courageous. I’ve had it beaten out of me by too many years of people demanding I fit their conceptions of me, through verbal and even physical abuse. I’ve just stopped caring. My trolls can call me “Mr. Ice” or “Clown tits” or even “Creepy Jon Lithgow look-a-like” and any other names they wish to try and force me to fit their preconceptions of what I should be, and it’s meaningless. I’ve got nothing to lose anymore, no reason to even attempt to win their approval.
So, yes. I am a long way from what I want to be. I’m going to be a succubus anyway, and act like one, and do so no matter who thinks it’s crazy, or strange, or even if it makes them act derisively towards me. But don’t call me courageous for it. Save that for those who deserve it, like Sadie. Save it for those who had the strength to stand up and be themselves before they were simply too tired to be anything else, like me. Save it for those who actually are making a difference, instead of a nobody who merely wishes she could.
And thank you, Sadie, for having the courage I never did.